Why I Am the Way I Am
by TakemylovedowntoVioletHill
Summary: Murdoc wasn't always the angry person he is now, a short collection of stories from his life, ultimately resulting in his hardened emotional state. T for language.
1. Nightmares and Promises

**Author's Note: Emily Rose Niccals (according to Wikipedia) is Murdoc's younger sister, Hannibal Niccals is his older brother. Just FYI for those of you who might me lost.**

**

* * *

**

I woke up, laying awkwardly on the bunch of blankets my asshole father saw fit to call a bed. I sat up, my hair falling in my eyes.

"Murdoc!" a yell sounded. It was Emily. I jumped up and ran to her room.

"Emily? Emily?" I said. She was curled up in her mop of blankets.

"Muds!" she cried. "Murdoc I had a nightmare!" I made a face, slightly irritated that she was making a big deal out of nothing, but I went to sit down by her bed any way.

"It's okay, Em." I said to her, taking her hand comfortingly. Her blue eyes were swimming with tears but she nodded.

"O-okay." She murmured.

"Nothing bad is ever going to happen to you while I'm around. I'll protect you from Hannibal and Dad." I said fiercely. She smiled.

"Thank you Murdoc, I love you." She said, embracing me. She smelled like dust, it must've been a week since the dad had payed the water bill and we'd been able to take showers.

I closed my eyes and patted her back. "Go back to sleep, I'll wake you up in an hour and we'll leave before dad comes back from the pub." I whispered into her hair.

* * *

"Murdoc-san! Murdoc-san!" I heard Noodle cry. I groaned as I got up and walked down the hallway to her room.

"What Noods?" I said, leaning on the frame of the door.

"The bad dreams are back." She whimpered, sitting up on her bed. I threw my hands up.

"Go get Dullard, I'm too old for that shit." I said, opening my beer as I walked away, ignoring her cries of fear.


	2. Birthday Wishes and Whiskey

I sat on the steps to my house, puffing on a cigarette. Hannibal was out, dad was at the bar and Emily had left early that morning to go play at her friend's house, so it was just me. I dug the heel of my boot into the dirt as I stared t a rock.

Sighing, I retrieved a severely folded piece of paper from my pocket. After fiddling with it for a few moments I held a birthday card in my hand.

"Happy birthday mum." I murmured to myself as I put my fag out and stood up. She was 40 today, and I smiled to myself as I thought about how thrilled she would be to receive mail. I began walking to the post office to mail it to her asylum.

* * *

"Murdoc!" I heard Ache-Face pounding on my door. I had a headache from a night of drinking alone in my Winniebago and I growled.

"Go away Dullard!" I said threateningly. Instead of ceasing, the knocking became more obnoxiously frequent. Swearing, I got up and went to open the door.

"SURPRISE!" three shouts greeted me, making my temple scream in protest. Two dents was grinning with his stupid broken teeth, Russel had a cupcake with a three and a six on it, and Noodle had three brightly wrapped boxes.

"Happy Birthday Murdoc-san!" she said joyfully, brandishing the gifts with great pleasure.

"Thirty-six today Muds!" Russ boomed.

"'Appy Birfday Murdoc!" Dullard agreed. I looked at them all and slammed the door in their faces. Today was my birthday and I had prayed to Satan that they had forgotten, no such luck naturally. I went to my mini-fridge and pulled out a bottle of whiskey.

"'Appy bloody fuckin' birthday Muds," I muttered to myself, taking a large swig. "Cheers." I slurred.


	3. Rejection and Phone Numbers

I sat in my desk, staring at the girl of my dreams. Her name was Mckayla Lambert. She was so beautiful.

I had had a crush on her for quite some time bt today was the day I ask her out on a date, with shaky legs I got up and went over to her desk where she sat alone.

"H-hey Sarah!" I said, my voice cracking slightly, she looked at my with an unimpressed expression.

"What?" she asked, annoyed.

"I-I-I w-was jus' wonderin' if you'd like to come over to my house sometime, to my house y'know?" I slapped myself mentally for sounding like such a blundering idiot. "I play the bass." I said in a small voice, hoping that somehow changed her view of me. My face was beet red.

"Go out, with you?" she said, widening her eyes. "Go to your house? With your crazy drunkard father and your freak older brother? No thanks Murdoc, and er, it wouldn't hurt to take a shower every once in a while." She added with a smirk before shooing me away with her hand.

I felt the tears of rejection sting my eyes as I went to sit back down at my desk and wait for class to start.

* * *

I made my way through the smoky bar with a cigarette in my mouth. People's heads turned as I passed them and I relished the attention.

My eyes saw a lone blonde at the bar and I took a seat next to her. She turned to me and smiled.

"My, my," I said. "Aren't you a lovely little bird?" she blushed at the compliment. "what's your name Chickie?"

"Rosemary," she replied. "I know you, you're Murdoc Niccals!" I dragged my fag with a lopsided grin.

"That's right." I said. "How'd you like to go see my house, doll?" her eyes widened with delight.

"That's be just grand." She exclaimed, taking a sip of her drink. I covered her tab and we left.

Due to my massive alcohol consumption I didn't remember much of that night, but I was awakened in the morning by the feel of the emptiness.

The girl stirred against me and she poked her head up to flash a smile at me. I didn't smile back but sat up and looked at her. "I think it's best you be going luv."

She frowned but nodded and got up to get dressed. Before she left, she went over and pressed a cell phone number into my hand. "Call me sometime." She said gently.

Only when I heard the door slam shut did I rip the small piece of paper up and turn over to go back to sleep.


	4. Bass Guitars and Unfortunate Pedestrains

I sat, hunched over a book in the library, flipping through the pages, fascinated at what I was reading. The source of my curiosity, a pamphlet on Satanism, was next to me.

A week ago I had had this little folded piece of paper shoved into my hands outside a theater when I had been passing, I had read it and became interested. I had taken refuge in the library where an old woman let me stay in due to the cold weather. I had found the Satanism for Beginners on the return rack and had picked it up, remembering the leaflet.

Upon exploring further I saw that Satanists were powerful people, strong, and never lost. No one fucked with an agent of hell.

Possibilities ran through my head like sparks of electricity. No more dealing with dad or Hannibal, I could protect Emily, save mum, my other siblings (the ones lucky enough to live with my grandparents) would all be impressed, and no more rejection from girls.

I looked over my shoulder to see if the woman who ran the library was anywhere near, she wasn't. Thinking quickly, I placed the pamphlet in the book and then stuffed it in my jacket, running out of the library.

I ran all the way back up the hill to my house and climbed in through my window (which I always left open in case of circumstances like this). By the sounds emanating from my dad's bedroom I guessed he'd managed to pick up a woman from the pub.

I fell asleep with the book in my arms, only to be woken up by the feel of my father's foot connecting with my stomach.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THIS HOUSE?" he screamed at me.

"I crawled in through the window! Please!" I pleaded, shielding my head from the blows. They stopped momentarily and I peeked out from under my arm, he raised a fist and shook it at me.

"You little shit! I should beat you for disobeying me-!" he stopped as he spied the book clutched in my other arm. Stooping down he pried it from my grip and examined it. "Satanism for beginners huh?" he said, looking at me and chuckling. "You wanna be a bloody Satanist? Go 'head." He threw the book at me and left, laughing.

* * *

I sat in the comfortable chair, one leg crossed over the other with a cigarette in my mouth as I negotiated with the Devil. The contract lay before me on the shiny oak table and in the corner, El Diablo, the legendary bass, gleamed.

"So, in exchange for fame, fortune, and better musical skill, you will consent to eternal servitude of the Prince of Darkness upon death?" he said, looking over at me from the top of his spectacles. I nodded impatiently.

"Yes, yes, can I sign the damn thing already?" I asked, Satan chuckled.

"Of course, can never be too eager to sell your soul now can you? As long as you follow the rules you should be set for a good- oh, 50 years or so?" I look forward to meeting you again." I signed under the lines he pointed to and handed back the pen.

"There," I said, smirking at him. The Prince of Lies smiled and handed me a necklace with an upside down cross on it.

"Just some free advertising now." He explained, I accepted it and stood up.

"Well, I'll see you around then old chap." I said. He shook my hand and I picked up El Diablo.

"Be careful with him," the Devil said, motioning to the bass guitar.

"Of course, of course." I waved him away. Satan smiled and when I blinked and opened my eyes I was back in my motel room.

I gently set El Diablo on the bed and went to go celebrate the selling of my soul, the only way I knew how to, by drinking.

Eventually one beer turned into ten and I found myself stumbling out of the bar and to my car with some not so innocent intentions on my mind.

You see, with my new promises of fame, fortune, and power I needed a band, and for a band I needed instruments. This thought came to mind right as I caught sight of a big sign: 'Uncle Norm's Keyboard Emporium'. Perfect. Smiling, I hit the gas and turned the wheel, hard.

I crashed right into the side so my car was half in, half out and opened the door. People outside were screaming and the store's alarm was going off as I lit a cigarette up.

"HELP! Somebody please!" muffled cries for assistance were heard, I slowly turned and saw someone stuck under my car. I laughed and lurched towards them.

"Hey!" I jeered, dragging my cigarette. "Hey you! Dullard, stop screamin' it'll only make it 'urt worse!" I mocked his cries.

Eventually he stopped struggling and I put my cigarette out on his pantleg and climbed back into my car. The moron was probably dead. I backed out of the store got out again to inspect the person.

He had an apron on and vibrantly blue hair, it was caked with blood from getting hit and a little screwed up but it was still a nice azure shade. One of his eyes was missing, me hitting him must've knocked the eyeball right out. He wasn't dead, I saw his chest rising and falling.

"Idiot." I growled as I went to check his nametag. It said 'Hi my name is Stuart' on it in big black letters. _Figures, _I thought to myself _only a true idiot would have such a stupid name_.

Sirens sounded and I hoisted myself up on the counter of the shop and lit another cigarette, dully admiring the flashing red and blue of the police cars fast approaching.


	5. Scars and Girlfriends

Hannibal was in the living room with his girlfriend when I walked in. He sneered at me as he put a foot out, making me fall down.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked. I stood back up, dusting myself off.

"Whatever the fuck I want!" I replied defiantly. He stood up as well, looming over me, eyes filled with malice.

"You've been cockier ever since you started that Satanist bullshit. You better watch your back Murdoc, cause someone like me might now find that attitude very respectful. Won't be so cocky then will you?" he smirked, pushing past me to get to the kitchen.

Hannibal's girlfriend, Marietta stood when he left the room and rushed to my side. "Are you okay?" she asked, eyes filled with concern. I nodded, eyeing her warily.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I said, taking a step back. She noticed this and raised an eyebrow.

"Why're you..?"

"I'm not supposed to talk to you." Was all I provided before heading to my room and closing the door. Hannibal would've killed me if he'd seen me talking to his girlfriend. She was off limits, and I wouldn't provoke him unless I had a death wish. I traced a faint scar on the back of my hand, a reminder of the last time I had messed with him.

* * *

I smashed my face into Paula's in a sort of hasty kiss as we clumsily made our way into the bathroom. I picked the middle stall and threw her in there, she smiled and wrapped her legs around her waist and we proceeded to make love.

Apparently we cause a ruckus because all of a sudden, quick movement was heard and I was on the ground.

"What the fuck is wrong wit' you man!" Russ yelled. He picked me up and punched me in the nose.

"Oh, bloody 'ell…" I moaned, feeling blood gush. "What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with _you_?" I yelled at him, he didn't pay attention but turned to Paula.

"Get out." He said menacingly to her, she scurried out of the bathroom, Russel turned to me and cracked his knuckles. "'aight, Mr. Niccals, you an' me gonna have a lil' talk."


	6. Paychecks and Bad Childhoods

I slipped into my room; I had just gotten back from work and didn't want to attract the attention of dad. My paycheck was burning a hole in my back pocket as I took a seat in my beanbag chair and began strumming some random notes on my bass guitar.

"You just get back?" I looked up and saw Emily standing in my doorway, arms folded and a smile on her face. She didn't look one ounce like us and for that I was grateful. She had mum's beauty, the blue eyes and brown hair, her skin was fair, but even she couldn't escape the slight green hue that was overwhelming in me and Hannibal's skin.

I nodded, surprised at what she was wearing, a mini skirt with a low cut shirt, Emily had certainly changed from since she was a little girl.

"How much you'd make?" she asked softly. I lit a cigarette, taking a drag off of it.

"Five hundred," I said, blowing a smoke ring. She grinned wider.

"That'll get us through the week then with some left over if I pitch in." she said, excited. "I bet you feel rich huh Muds?" she asked. I nodded.

"I bet you do." Came a cold voice, Emily froze and turned as dad appeared behind her. He shoved her out of the way as he came to stand in front of me, with an expectant hand outstretched. "Give it to me Murdoc." He said flatly. I shook my head.

"It's my money, you want some? Go get a fucking job you lazy-" I didn't get to finish my sentence as my father yanked me up by hair, causing my bass guitar to fall onto my toes rather painfully.

"Listen here you little bastard," dad spat, face inches from me. "I raised you, I own you, everything you make is mine by default."

I stared into his mismatched eyes that so resembled mine and bowing my head (as much as his death grip on my hair would allow anyway), I dug into my pocket and produced the check. My dad grunted and let go of me, shoving me back down into my beanbag. He pushed past Emily, leaving my room.

Emily's grin was gone and both of us were silent until we heard the front door slam, announcing the man's departure. She sighed, looking at me with sympathy in her eyes. "Yet another paycheck gone to dad's drinking efforts." She murmured, leaving my room and heading into her own down the hallway.

* * *

"Murdoc-san!" the voice of the Gorillaz guitar player sounded, as a disruptive banging also filled the silence.

"Go away!" I moaned, burying my head under a pillow. I had drank myself into oblivion the other night and had quite a nasty hangover.

The banging increased in volume."But 2D said he needed you, says you Otousan is here!" she said loudly.

"My _WHAT_?" I asked, wondering what the hell she was trying to say in the gibberish language of hers.

"Your father!" she translated. That sobered me up considerably and I sat upright, getting out of bed. As soon as I stood up I swayed a little and made my way to the door. Opening it I saw little Noodle and glared at her.

"I don't believe you." I said flatly, she scrunched her nose up and glared at him.

"No joke!" she said angrily. "Green skin, big nose, red eye, skinny, tall, old-" I grabbed her by her radio helmet and yanked her inside. Obviously this wasn't a joke since Noodle definitely wouldn't know shit about what my family looked like. I told her to sit on my bed as I went through my drawers, and put on the first thing I saw.

"Okay luv I need you to stay 'ere." I said as I knelt down and put my hands on her shoulders.

"Why?" she asked.

"I don't want you anywhere near my father." Was all I provided as I left her in the Winniebago and made my way across the car park.

The elevator ride up was torture, wondering why on Earth my father would come to visit Kong? I knew Hannibal was sometimes prone to show up begging for money but dad? I shook my head as the elevator opened onto the third floor, the floor that had the living room. I exited the elevator and saw Russel walking my way. He looked at me and sighed.

"Thought Noods didn' reach the parking lot," he said. "C'mon man, your dad's complaining, I wanna throw 'im out already." Russel grumbled.

I stumbled into the living room and saw my father, his back to me, inspecting the furniture. 2D was sitting on the couch, twiddling his thumbs, looking very uncomfortable. He saw me first and stood, all too happy to see me.

"Well then," Ache-Face said. "I fink yew know each other." He laughed weakly at his own joke, but there was nothing less funny about me and my father's reunion. He looked at me through those haughty eyes and his arrogant smile that had haunted me all those years of my wretched childhood.

"Well my boy, you certainly know what you're doing here," he said, his bloodshot eyes narrowing.

"Why are you here?" I said stiffly. The old drunkard feigned offense.

"Do I have to have an excuse to visit my son?"

"You never had before." I countered. My father threw his hands up with a sigh.

"You caught me," he said. "I've gotten meself into a spot of trouble at Stoke and need some money, d'you think you can spare some?" he asked.

I was fuming as I pointed to the elevator. "Get out." I snarled. All pretences fell away and my father was once again the bastard that had made my life hell for so many years.

"You little fucker!" my dad hissed. "I'll go but remember, you're me, we're flesh an' blood, boy, so take a good hard look at yourself in a couple of years." And with that he marched to the elevator, shoving 2D out of the way like he used to do with Emily so many lifetimes ago.

I looked at Dullard, my eyes narrowed. "What the hell're you lookin' at Face-Ache?" I asked, clenching my fists. He didn't say anything but stood up, embraced me and left down the hallway to his room humming the opening lines to 'Dirty Harry'.


End file.
